Snake Charmer
by TheJerkbeast
Summary: The world has gone to hell, and Del has made her way to Atlanta in search of something she's afraid she'll never find. When she is encountered by the survivors, and she joins them on their journey across Georgia, she begins to discover more than she expected. [[Shane/OC, Daryl/OC]] Rated M for graphic language and violence throughout, and explicit content in future chapters.
1. Runs in the Family

_"Do you honestly think some Mick fuckin' cop from the fuckin' Southie projects is gonna survive in a fuckin' world like this? You're just as worthless as your fuckin' father, you stupid cunt. You're gonna die before your make it to Jersey."_

My mother's final words were very colorful, to say the least. I watched her die from on the floor of her apartment before I put a bullet in her head for safe measures. She was the last member of my family I watched die that day, and the one I wished would have gone first.

My name is Del Costigan. I'm twenty-four years old, and, up until this so-called apocalypse, I was working as a Trooper for the Massachusetts State Police, at the behest of my father. He wanted me to work for the Department of Corrections in one of the prisons, just like him, but the academy decided I was was better fit for field work, rather than getting accosted by creeps at Walpole all day.

Granted, I didn't always want to be a Statie. I had dreams of being the next Siouxsie Sioux or Dinah Cancer, singing songs for all of the kids from broken homes, like me. You see, my parents never got married; they met a the local tavern one night and started an affair. When mom got pregnant with me, and my father promised to make a good life for us all together. Good ol' mom didn't want anything to do with him after he knocked her up, and turned him down when he proposed to her. She always thought she was too good to marry 'some Mick prison guard'.

I was a punk kid, from the moment I could walk. When I started school, I was picking fights with kids and stealing things from my teachers, just because I could. Small time crook at the age of six.

Growing up, I split the time between my mom and my old man. When I was with my mom, she would sit around and bitch about my father, but the days I was with my dad were the best. He would teach me about being a cop, and taught me how to shoot a gun. He was shaping me to be a cop, even though I didn't realize it.

My acting out started getting worse; when I was sixteen I got in a fight with some Toonie broad during a football game. The fight escalated wicked fast before anyone could separate us, and, needless to say, I got her worse than she got me. I was taken out of the school in handcuffs, and they charged me with mayhem.

That was the last straw for my dad. He tried putting up with my problems, just writing them off to being a teenager, but he told me he had enough. He managed to get the charges dropped if I promised to clean up my act, which I was all too eager to agree to. From that day forward, I spent all my free time with my dad, learning everything I could about being a cop in Boston.

I was eighteen years old when my dad was killed in a prison riot during yard time. One of the inmates shived him. I was fresh outta high school, heading directly into the academy when I got the news. It only made me work harder so I could be the woman he wanted me to be.

This isn't a sob story about how my mom beat the hell out of me and treat me like I was a piece of shit. This isn't even about me being a cop. None of that matters anymore. All that matters is finding something worth living for, and that's exactly what I intend to do.

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**A/N**: I'm just beginning to develop this, and I'm excited to write it. I'm going to post the next chapter as well (which will not be in first-person because I'm not very good at first-person POV) and this will be the introduction on the survivors we know. I hope everyone enjoys this.


	2. Reckless and Relentless

Much to Del's dismay, when she arrived in Atlanta, she found it to be in the same state as Boston, and all of the other cites she witnessed in between. She had managed to make the drive from Boston to Atlanta in just two days, stopping along the way to loot stores for supplies and siphon gas out of the abandoned cars. She was able to gather an arsenal of weapons from various police stations, and empty campsites.

She set up shop in an old pharmacy on the outskirts of Atlanta. It was only supposed to be temporary, but she grew weary of travelling, and most of the dead didn't roam in her area. She would search the city every few days, looking for things to supplies and any other survivors, but after a few weeks, it became clear to her that Atlanta had nothing left.

Del had been alone in Atlanta for two months when she was discovered by Rick's group. Upon hearing male whispers outside of the pharmacy, Del ducked behind the counter where she lay on the floor, feigning sleep. She held her knife at her side, out of sight just in case she needed it.

The voices neared her, halting as they noticed her.

"She dead?" one whispered.

"I don't know," the other responded. His voice was softer than the first man's, younger. "I can't see any bites or scratches."

"Check her pulse," the first one spoke.

"Why do I have to do it?"

"She's just a girl, man, she ain't gonna hurt you if she's alive. Check it." The second man mumbled something that Del couldn't understand, before she felt someone moving closer to her. Just before he could lay a finger on her, Del grabbed his wrist and rolled over onto him, pinning him between her and the ground with her knife to his throat.

"Woah!" the young Asian boy yelled, closing his eyes and cringing.

"Hey hey!" the other roared, aiming his gun directly at Del. "Drop the knife!"

"Drop the fucking gun, or I'll slit your buddy's throat," she seethed. "And lower your goddamn voice before the corpses hear you." The older man glanced between her face and that of the young man on the floor, noting the pleading look in his eyes. With a sigh, the man lowered his weapon and nodded his head.

"Alright then," he whispered. "Just let him go." Del stood, allowing her victim to scramble to his feet, and cower behind his friend.

The men watched as the young woman closed her butterfly knife and slipped it into her pocket. They remained quiet as she picked up her revolver and carefully made her way to the entrance of the pharmacy. She peered out the glass, making sure that none of the walkers were spooked by the commotion. Satisfied that they were still safe, she made her way back to the men.

"Who are you two?" she asked. "And what are you doing in my pharmacy? I've been through this town at least a dozen times, and I've never seen you two before. Where did ya come from?"

"My name is Glenn, and this is Shane," the Asian boy said, hurriedly. "We're with a bigger group, and we've been staying in the mountains outside of town. We're collecting supplies before we move out." She studied them momentarily, trying to determine if she could trust them. "Wh-what's your name?" Glenn inquired.

"Del Costigan," she mumbled, narrowing her eyes at the pair.

"Are you alone here?" Shane asked, looking around at the makeshift home she had set up behind the counter. There was only one sleeping bag, next to a kerosene lamp along with other belongings, such as comics and books. He noticed several different types of guns under the counter as well.

"Yeah, I am," Del admitted. "You're the first living people I've seen in months."

"How have you made it this long?" Glenn asked.

"Pure luck, I guess."

"You should come with us," Glenn offered. "There's plenty of room at the camp for you. I'd hate to see you out here by yourself with all of this."

"I've managed just fine this long," she responded, her voice indignant.

"Don't be dumb, girl," Shane chimed in. "You cannot honestly think that a kid like you can survive out here on your own. If we leave you here, you'll be dead in a week."

"Let's get one thing straight, Maverick," she began. "You don't call me 'kid', and you don't call me 'girl'. Now, the two of you obviously came in here to gather pills, and I'm in possession of plenty. If you continue to patronize me...well, I could carve you two up nice and slow without so much as a second thought so I could protect what's mine." Shane smirked at the girl's words.

"You don't sound like you're from around here. What did you do before all this shit went down? Besides high school, ya'know." Del glared at Shane.

"I was a State Trooper in Boston," she said. "And I'm twenty-four years old."

"Shane's a cop, too," Glenn said.

"Yeah, I could tell," she mumbled. "Had a few like you in my division."

"Ya'know, you're a long way from home," said Shane. "How'd you get down here?"

"Maybe we'll take a stroll down memory lane another time," Del said.

"Look," Glenn said, before Shane had a chance to come up with a retort to Del's words. "Atlanta is lost, and we're on our way out. I'd never forgive myself if I leave you here alone like this. No matter how certain you are that you're safe." Del sighed, feeling like Glenn was genuine, unlike the other man in the room.

"There are three backpacks in the utility closet stuffed with scripts," she said, fishing a key from her pocket and tossing it to Glenn. "All the pills you'll need." Glenn dashed off to the back of the pharmacy to retrieve the medicine. "Hey, Maverick, why don't you gimme a hand with these weapons," she called out, as she began gathering her guns. Shane made his way towards her, helping her stuff the guns into the dufflebag she had nearby. "Carry those," she said, shoving the bag to him.

"Yes, ma'am," Shane laughed. "You're bossy, ain't you?"

"Seth called me headstrong," she replied, gathering the rest of her belongings to slide into her backpack.

"Who's Seth?" he asked. Del stopped moving, and stayed silent for a minute, before swallowing hard and standing back up straight.

"Your friend is pretty slow, isn't he?" she asked, pushing past Shane. "Hurry up, man. It'll be dark soon, and I don't trust being in the streets at night with corpses around every corner." Glenn came back towards them, carrying three camping packs filled with prescriptions.

"You weren't kidding!" Glenn beamed. "This is like the Holy Grail."

"Alright, man, let's get outta here," Shane hurried him. The three survivors headed out of the pharmacy slowly, so not to attract any walkers. Glenn and Shane led Del through the streets towards where the others were waiting with the cars. As they approached the RV, a man in a sheriff's uniform came around the corner, startling the group. "Woah, man," Shane whispered. "Just us."

"Who's the girl?" the man asked.

"Del Costigan," Glenn said.

"We found her alone in the pharmacy," Shane added.

"Rick Grimes," the officer said to Del. She nodded, shaking the hand he extended to her. "Glad to see someone else alive."

"Feeling's mutual," she said.

"Let's get everyone on the RV and get the hell outta here, man," Glenn said, pushing past Rick and climbing into the RV. Rick smiled at Del, placing a hand on her shoulder and leading her towards the RV.

Del stared blankly down at the table before her. Her eyelids were heavy, but she swore to herself not to sleep. She couldn't recall the last time she actually slept, or ate real food; it had been days, maybe even weeks since she had either. It surprised her how much the human body could truly withstand, but she could still feel the effects wracking her body.

"Hey, kid, you okay?" Del lethargically directed her gaze in the direction of the person speaking, looking at a thirty-something black man she had yet to be introduced to. He was peering at her fixedly, concern in his eyes.

"Yah, I'm good," Del rasped, closing her eyes and resting her face in her hands. "Fuckin' great."

"Name's T-Dog," he added.

"Del Costigan." The conversation ended as quickly as it began; Del didn't expect it to last long because she figured there isn't much to talk about at the end of the world.

Lifting her head up from her hands, she saw Shane sitting across from her, cleaning one of his guns. He wasn't paying her any mind, but was instead entirely focused on his work.

"I can clean your weapons for you, too, if you'd like me to," he spoke finally. He glanced up for a moment, then continued on with his work.

"Ya'know, I appreciate the offer," she began. "But I'm perfectly capable of maintaining my own weapons. I've been keeping up with them just fine." Shane inhaled sharply, glaring at her with frustration in his eyes.

"You look like ain't slept in days," he mentioned. "Settin' aside your attempt to skin Glenn in that pharmacy, I can tell you're operatin' at less than a hundred percent." He paused, running his hand over his hair. "Just thought you could use some help," he murmured.

"Thanks anyway, slick," she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest and relaxing against the seat.

Her gaze cut to the window, watching all of the scenery as they drove past. The land was much different than what she was used to in Boston, and it intrigued her. She had never been south of Pennsylvania, so it was a new experience to see stretches of prairies that seemed to go on for days.

It was so peaceful, even in the wake of the unknown pandemic they were faced with. Having been cooped up in the pharmacy for two months without any contact with another human had taken it's toll on Del. She knew the people that had helped her out of that pharmacy had good intentions, but she kept her walls up, adapting quickly to the way the world was changing.

While they drove, Del heard mention of the Center for Disease Control. The man driving the RV was speaking to a young blond about, saying that it was their best option if they wanted to survive. Del hadn't heard any news on the state of the country since she arrived in Atlanta, and didn't know what to expect as they traveled.

It didn't take long for them to arrive at the CDC, but it felt like an eternity for Del being trapped in the RV. As she went to stand up, she felt her legs quake beneath her, and swiftly gripped the table in order to brace herself.

"Hey, hey," Shane piped, hurriedly reaching out to grasp Del's arms. "You okay?" Del groaned weakly, not understanding her sudden exhaustion. Even as she tried to open her mouth to speak, all she could manage was a soft rasp before everything started to turn black. "Alright now, girl, stay with me!" Shane's panicked voice rang, becoming more faint with each syllable.

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**A/N:** Okay, I hope everyone likes this. I slapped a few pictures together of what I imagine Del to look like (keen eyes may recognize the young lady), and I have linked that in my profile (since I am currently unable to figure out a way to link it here). Any comments will be greatly appreciated. Thank you all for reading, and I look forward to continuing this story to tell you Del's story.


	3. In the Room Where You Sleep

When Del awoke, she found herself on a couch in a bright room. She sat up, her eyes darting around the area, seeing her bags sitting by the door. She couldn't recognize where she was, but for a moment, she felt comfortable being somewhere other than the pharmacy. Rubbing her hands over her face, she tossed the blanket form her legs, and stood from the couch.

As she felt her legs shudder beneath her, she recalled having the same feeling in the RV before everything went black. She figured she had passed out, and the others brought her into the CDC to rest. With a quiet groan, she carefully made her way out of the room, into a long, dark hallway. She could hear the voices of the others coming from down the hall, and slowly followed the sounds.

"Look who's up!" Rick announced as Del shuffled into the dining room.

"How long was I out?" she inquired, as she headed towards the group.

"Two hours, maybe," Glenn replied. "You passed out." Del studied the table where everyone sat, noting the various trays of food and bottles of wine splayed across it.

"You should eat something to get your strength up." Del looked to the man who spoke, realizing he was not one of the group that had saved her.

"You a doctor?" she asked, sitting down next to Dale.

"Edwin Jenner," he responded with a nod.

"Thanks," Del said, accepting the plate of food that Dale offered to her, and began to eat slowly. As she tasted the food, she felt immediately comforted. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, smiling. "Oh, man," she mumbled, swallowing her food. "This is so fucking good."

"How long has it been since you've eaten?" Lori asked.

"Can't remember," Del responded. "Days, maybe more than a week. I don't know." She began eating even faster, feeling how starving she was for the first time. She heard the others laughing at how quickly she was shoveling the food into her mouth, but she ignored them.

"Glenn said you're a cop," Dale stated. Del looked up at him, nodding her head while she attempted to swallow the mouthful of food she had chewed. "In Boston. Is that right?"

"Trooper," she answered. "About five years now. Greatest job in the world."

"They let you be a cop with all those tattoos?" Sophia asked, as she and Carl both studied the ink on the girl's arms.

"Most of my superiors didn't mind much," Del responded. "It didn't hinder my ability as a Statie. I worked my ass off to get where I was, and I wasn't going to let anything stand in my way."

"Here you go, sweetie," Carol said, holding a glass of wine out to Del. The girl shook her head and looked back down at her plate.

"No, thanks," she spoke. "Try not to drink the stuff. You got any tonic?"

"Is that kinda like soda?" Glenn asked, slowly.

"Yah, exactly like soda," she replied. As Glenn grabbed her a glass of soda, Dale dished another helping of pasta onto her plate. She smiled graciously at both of the men, and continued to eat.

"Well, now that you seem to be in better spirits," Shane began. "Wanna tell us how it is you ended up all the way down here?" Del scowled at the man, still not finding him trustworthy.

"I drove here," she spat. He smirked at her, relaxing into his seat as he propped his hands behind his head. "Lookit, I came down here to survive," she answered. "I lost my family, my friends, and my town. I just drove until I got tired of seeing corpses coming at my car. I was sitting in that pharmacy for two months before you guys came along."

"Well, I'm glad we did," Rick spoke, smiling at the girl.

The rest of the meal continued on with everyone laughing and celebrating their rescue by Jenner. Del stayed silent, eyeing up the survivors, and learning each of their names as they spoke to one another. It was strange for Del, being surrounded by people she had only met that day, and having them treat her as if they were lifelong friends.

Once everyone finished eating, Jenner offered to show everyone to their rooms. Del went back to the room where she was sleeping before, and began to dig through her belongings looking for clean clothes. Satisfied with what she had gathered, she made her way back down the hallway heading towards where Jenner had mentioned the showers to be.

Along the way, she approached a room where one of the other survivors was, one that she hadn't spoken to yet. From what she could tell during dinner, the man's name was Daryl, and he tended to seclude himself from the others, though Carol made mention of his attempt to be social. Del slowed her walking, peering in at the man who sat on his couch, cleaning his crossbow. Del watched him as he stopped to take a long swig of his wine.

"You gon' stand there and stare all day or what?" he spoke, looking up to the young woman standing in his doorway. She shrugged her shoulders, and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Not much for pleasantries?" she asked.

"I don't like no one starin' at me like I'm a caged animal," he said.

"So don't I," Del replied.

"And you don't seem to like people talkin' to you neither." Del nodded her head noticing that he was barely paying attention to her He continued to work on his crossbow. "If you got somethin' to say, then say it," he added.

"I don't have anything to say," she replied, walking into his room, and picking up the bottle of wine that sat at his feet. "Just trying to figure you out." She took a long drink of the alcohol, before setting it back down on the ground.

"Thought you didn't drink," he mumbled.

"I'm Irish, brah," she laughed, turning and heading out of the room. "Of course I fuckin' drink."

After Del showered, she slipped into an shirt and shorts, and immediately headed back to her room. When she entered, she was greeted by Shane, who stood shirtless in the center of the room, digging through a bag.

"Yo, Serpico!" Del snapped, throwing her dirty clothes onto the floor near her bags. "The fuck are you doing in my room?" He turned and looked at the girl, an angered look on his face.

"Ain't no more rooms left," he replied. "I'm stayin' here the night, then find somewhere else tomorrow." Del opened her mouth to speak but Shane cut her off. "I ain't gonna try nothin' on you, girl," he added. "I'm gonna be sleepin' on the floor." He picked up a button up shirt, and slipped it on his arms, grabbing the bottle of wine off of the table. Without another word, he stormed from the room and out of Del's sight.

Sighing, Del collapsed onto the couch and pulled her blanket over her body. She knew that Glenn, Rick, and the others meant well, but there was something about Shane that didn't sit right with her. She felt like he was always on the attack, and he had an explosive temper.

"Maybe I'm wrong," she mumbled to herself, as she turned onto her side to get comfortable, and soon began to drift to sleep.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed when she was awoken by the sound of Shane stumbling into the room. She stayed still for a few moments, listening to him mumbling under his breath.

"Fuckin' bitch," he breathed, before there was a slam. Del jumped, rolling over to see what caused the sound. Shane was sitting on the table, with his back towards Del, rubbing his hands over his face. "Stupid, ungrateful..." he continued to mumble.

"Dude, the fuck?" Del asked. Shane looked over his shoulder at the girl, the frustration in his eyes apparent. "Are you okay?" she questioned, quietly. Del watched as Shane stood from the table, and moved to pick up the things he had kicked over when he entered the room. As he did this, Del noticed scratch marks on his neck. "Holy shit, come here," she said, tossing the covers from her legs, and hurrying towards him.

"I'm fine," he assured, avoiding her grasp.

"You're not fuckin' fine," Del snapped, grasping his face with both hands and turning his head towards her. "Jesus, what happened?" she asked. She let go of Shane, and headed towards her bag, rifling through it.

"Nothin'," Shane growled. Del could tell he was still drunk, but couldn't figure out how exactly he attained the scratches. Once Del located her the alcohol wipes she was looking for, she took Shane's wrist and tugged him towards the table. She forced him to kneel down in front of her as she sat on the couch.

"Now why dontcha tell me who decided to fuck your shit up like this?" Del offered, as she opened one of the wipes.

"Just a communication that's all," Shane rasped. "Ain't nothin' to worry about, girl." Del frowned at Shane, narrowing her eyes.

"Call me 'girl' again, ya'hear," she spat. "I'll throw you a beatin'." She grasped his chin, and turned his face away from her, not before she noticed the smug smirk on his lips. "I've spent my whole life avoidin' people like you," she mumbled, as she tended to Shane's cuts. "And now I'm stuck with yah."

"Well, that accent sure gets thicker when you're pissed," Shane quipped.

"Yah, I know," Del responded, clearing her throat and getting herself in check. "I try not to let it get too wild, but sometimes I can't help it. Sorry."

"I figured you didn't like me much," he spoke. "Why are you so eager to help me with a couple of scratches?"

"Just my nature, I s'pose," Del answered. "Don't have anything to do with liking you or not. I help people that need help. That's why I loved being a cop."

As she finished cleaning Shane's wounds, he suddenly placed his hands on her thighs. Del froze, staring Shane directly in his eyes. He didn't speak to her, just let his rough hands gently slip up her thighs.

"I don't know what you think you're doing," she began, carefully. "But you need to stop it." Shane's fingers grasped her thighs, roughly tugging her body towards his. He leaned forward, attempting to press himself further between her legs. "Brah," Del said, pushing him away. "You're wicked drunk right now, so I'm not gonna clock you...but seriously, fuckin' quit it."

"C'mon now, Lori," he rasped, moving back in. "Don't think about it, baby. It'll be just like before."

"Fuckin' _Lori_?" Del fumed. "Are you seriously drunk enough to think I'm Rick's wife?" At the mention of his best friend's name, Shane recoiled, looking into Del's eyes as if he was trying to figure out who she was. "Dude, you're fuckin' hammered," Del said, quietly. "Go to sleep."

Shane stood from the floor, beginning to mumble under his breath again, before he took his shirt off and pitched it across the room. Del watched him, utterly confused by his actions. After a moment, Shane turned the light off in the room, and settled onto the floor in his makeshift bed, without another word to Del.

Del stared at his back, puzzled and indignant at the same time. She knew Shane was drunk, which would explain his actions, but she couldn't overlook how he continued to force himself onto her when she denied his advances. It only made her feel more suspicious of him.

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**A/N:** Little introduction of Daryl there, not much but it's something! Haha, anyway, very drunk!Shane not knowing what he's doing, always fun. I'll be writing some more tonight, and hopefully will have it up by tomorrow. It's starting out as a slow-burn kinda thing, but once I get this going, you're in for a ride. lol, I really hope you guys like it.


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